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Satisfied, Carmine returned home. Placing her rifle on kitchen table she noticed Patrick's cereal bowl. She sighed deeply, fingering the bowl lightly. Killing him didn't quite have the satisfaction she had anticipated. Could she have really liked this guy? No. Out of the question. She was a serial killer, not so love-struck teenager. Carmine flung the bowl across the room, where it shattered on the far wall. "Get a grip, Carmine." She muttered to herself. All she needed was a distraction.
She picked up her binoculars and went over the window. The view was of the park outside filled with people gathering in the late afternoon. She sees a young couple walking happily together. "Yes," she says to herself, "A new distraction."
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